Six foot two, navy blue,nAnd when she walked through the door,nI could've fell through the floor,nIn the twilight, she was my life,nEasy come easy go, I swear to God I just don't knownnTouch her lips with my fingertips,nAnd in the pouring rain I really like the pain,nClifton Boulevard in the wintertime,nIt's four degrees below, and I got someplace to gonnTo smart apartments with buzzers on the door,nI remember everything she wore,nIn the restaurants, turning every head,nLike a broken tape recorder, playing back the things she saidnnAnd what ever happened to the letters that I sent her?nAre they sitting in a box down in somebody's basement?nnHer waitress uniform was hanging up to dry,nAll those little things, they never ever die,nHer little doggie in her suitcase,nOn the plane to New York City,nShe must've looked so prettynnIt seems the more you try that just the worse it gets,nAnd when she walked out the door, nI could've fell through the floor,nIn the twilight, she was my life,nEasy come easy go, I swear to God I just don't know